Double Dog Dare

by E J Cochrane

  She stopped midsentence and creeping toward Murphy’s utensil holder, reached for anything she could use as a weapon. Armed and uneasy but unwilling to let the cats come to any harm on her watch, she tiptoed toward the living room, terrified to confront the intruder. Herbie, meanwhile, charged ahead, eager to greet any violent criminal who might be lurking in the next room, noiselessly ransacking Murphy’s home. Not wanting the friendly kitten to suffer at the hands of a ruthless malefactor, she hurried after him, weapon at the ready. Just as she reached the entryway, arm raised to defend herself, she heard a delighted cooing of Herbie’s name and looked up to see Officer Murphy (criminally alluring in worn jeans and a black leather jacket) cuddling her cat.

  “You scared me.”

  “Apparently.” Murphy eyed her with amusement. “A potato masher? That’s your weapon of choice?”

  “I just grabbed what was handy.”

  “In my kitchen where the knives live?”

  “Maybe I was going for the element of surprise,” she offered weakly.

  “Mission accomplished.” Murphy smiled, her dimple appearing to make her that much more captivating, not that she needed any help in that department.

  “So,” Maddie fumbled with the potato masher as she tried to focus on anything other than the tantalizing Officer Murphy. “You’re back early.” Murphy stepped close enough to take the utensil from her suddenly weak grasp. “Aren’t you?”

  “A little early. Traffic wasn’t bad.”

  Of course she looked radiant after a road trip, whereas Maddie barely managed the brief walk from her bathroom to her living room without negating all her efforts on the esthetic front.

  Looking for something to do (other than stare into Murphy’s brown eyes), she crouched to pet Stanley, who’d been rubbing his plump body against her calves almost since Murphy came through the door, as if to show her how little he was interested in his recently negligent mother.

  “You must be tired from your trip, and the cats missed you, so I’ll get out of your way.”

  “Clearly they’ve been pining for me.” She gestured to Maddie’s feet where both cats were now busy purring and rubbing their faces on her shoes. “And we never had that dinner you agreed to. You should stay.”

  Murphy hit her with another dimple-enhanced grin, and she felt all the air leave the room. She swallowed hard. “I’d love to, but—”

  “You have somewhere else you need to be.” She nodded, not trusting her voice. “Another time then.”

  She nodded again and inched toward the door, grateful and sorry to hear the ringing of Murphy’s phone, pulling her attention from Maddie, who both needed and dreaded relief from her intense gaze.

  “I should take this.” Murphy apologized to her for the interruption (probably some cop emergency, Maddie guessed, instantly excusing her) and then frowned at her phone before answering.

  Wondering if Murphy was dismissing her or if she should stay to provide an in-person report on the cats, Maddie lingered by the door awkwardly glancing around the room. As she hesitated, she couldn’t help but overhear Murphy’s half of the conversation and felt bad about listening in, but it wasn’t like Murphy tried to move to a less occupied area of her home. And (at least initially) the conversation didn’t seem to be private in nature.

  “I am free tonight. I just got back,” she told the caller. “I’ll be there at six.” Murphy sounded happy about seeing whoever was on the other end of the call (probably some supermodel in need of companionship, not that Maddie cared). “Anything for you, babe.”

  “I’ll just let myself out then,” she muttered to the cats and slipped out the door, chastising herself for the eavesdropping she regretted every second of.

  It wasn’t until she stepped outside and took a deep breath of fresh, crisp air that she felt herself regaining her poise (to the extent that she ever could claim to have poise) and shook her head to clear it of pervasive thoughts of Officer Dimples Murphy.

  “Now, if I can just survive Granny Doyle, P.I., I can call it a day,” she said to no one in particular as she made her way toward her grandmother’s house.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Maddie found Granny Doyle sitting on her front porch, ready to go. In deference to the mild temperatures, she wore a light sweater but no jacket. Wisps of her hair that had escaped from its habitual braid fluttered in the gentle breeze, and now and again she tucked a fluttering strand behind her ear. She wore the gym shoes Maddie had given her for her birthday, a clear sign she was eager for their adventure, and a container of some baked goodness sat on the table beside her.

  “Cutting it kind of close, aren’t you?” Granny said by way of greeting. She rose and began gathering her things.

  Maddie checked her watch to confirm that her exchange with Murphy hadn’t put her too far behind schedule. “Granny, I’m ten minutes early.”

  “And I was expecting you five minutes ago. You tend to show up early, you know.” She barreled down her stairs, and after pausing to offer her granddaughter a brief but warm greeting, she continued down the sidewalk at a brisk pace. “And given your fondness for extreme punctuality, I don’t think you can blame me for worrying that you’d forgotten our plan.”

  “You’re that eager to visit an old lady with bad taste and possibly worse morals?”

  “You’re that reluctant to spend time with your grandmother?”

  “Maybe I don’t want to share you with anyone,” Maddie said and offered to carry the pie Granny insisted on taking to Esther’s house.

  To Maddie this seemed like an unnecessary risk—the sight of confections would undoubtedly inspire Esther to unveil her own miserable culinary offerings for their “enjoyment,” leading to some potentially unpleasant results. Still hopeful about eschewing sustenance of any sort at Esther’s, she tapped the lid of the pie container and ventured a question.

  “You know you’re just going to inspire her to share, don’t you?”

  “She was going to do that anyway, so I brought this as a palate cleanser.”

  “That’s actually a great idea.”

  “Don’t act surprised, child. You didn’t think your brilliance came out of thin air, did you?”

  “There’s brilliant, and then there’s devious. I could never hope to be so deviously brilliant.”

  “Nonsense. I just know how to read people. Like you.” Granny studied her as they strode purposefully toward Sheridan Road. “What’s got you so cheery? Is it that girlfriend of yours?”

  “What do you think of her?” she asked to deflect the question. Not that she didn’t want to discuss Nadia or the very real possibility that her love life was, in fact (and in defiance of the dire romantic precedent she’d established over the years), the source of her atypical joyfulness. Mostly she wanted to enjoy the feeling while it lasted, and knowing her luck, that wouldn’t be long.

  “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, young lady. I invented that move,” Granny countered, their habitual game of conversational chess picking up at the stalemate where they always left it.

  “Can’t I be interested in your opinion of the person I’m seeing? What you think of Nadia will impact me as long as she sticks around, so if you don’t like her, the next couple weeks could be hard to get through.”

  “She seems a whole lot more taken with you than that, child.”

  “She does, doesn’t she?” Maddie couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face, even though she knew Granny would pounce on it.

  “I guess I’ve got my answer.”

  “But I don’t,” she countered.

  “It’s early for me to say anything,” Granny answered cautiously.

  “That’s never stopped you in the past.”

  “I’m older and wiser now.”

  Maddie stared at her expectantly but prudently said nothing to contradict her.

  “You know, you’ve never been this concerned with what I think of your girlfriends in the past. Why the sudden interest in m
y opinion?” Granny studied her face carefully. “Are you in love with Nadia?”

  “Pfft.” She dismissed her question with a fluttering wave of her hand. “It’s too soon for me to fall in love.”

  “Now, I’m not a worldly, accomplished woman like you. I married the third man I ever dated, stayed married for thirty-five years and haven’t the slightest interest in anyone other than your grandfather, but in my limited experience, I don’t recall ever learning of a timeframe for loving someone. You either do or you don’t. Of course, some folks are too thick-headed to realize it for a while. Takes ’em even longer to admit it, but that’s why god created pushy grandmothers.”

  “He broke the mold with you.”

  “Which means you better get to talking.”

  She weighed her odds of outlasting her in a contest of wills and decided to surrender immediately. The end result would be the same, but she could bypass most of the frustration that came with trying to keep anything from her.

  “I like her a lot, probably more than I should after a collective two weeks of dating.”

  “But?”

  “But what if I confuse strong like for love? And what if I settle for what I have now and never get more? Or what if I hold out for more that never comes? Isn’t it naïve to expect that everyone gets a happy ending? Shouldn’t I just be satisfied that anyone wants to spend time with me at all?”

  “Slow down, child,” Granny admonished. “You’re so concerned about crossing the finish line you’re willing to skip the race. Maybe you should enjoy where you’re at and give yourself room to feel what you feel about Nadia.”

  “Is that what you did with Grandpa?”

  They turned up the walkway to Esther’s building.

  “There was no need to. I think I loved your grandfather from the moment I saw him.”

  “Oh,” she sighed, touched by her grandmother’s story but saddened by her own shortcomings in that area.

  “‘Course it took some time for me to recognize that and break off my engagement to your almost-grandfather.”

  “What?” Momentarily in shock, Maddie stopped short just before the entrance to the building.

  “Are we here already?” Granny breezed past her stupefied granddaughter and stepped into the revolving door.

  “You aren’t getting out of this so easily,” she called after her but fell silent when she caught the stern gaze of the doorwoman.

  “Is Esther Snodgrass in?” Granny asked sweetly, and just like that evaded another discussion of her personal life.

  “Matilda, what a pleasant surprise.” Esther stood in her doorway, beaming as Maddie and Granny made their way down the hall. “I’m so glad you came back. And you brought a guest. Come in, come in.”

  Over the babel of Thelma and Louise’s solicitous greeting, Maddie introduced the old women, who seemed to have little more than advancing years in common. Almost immediately upon entering, Granny reared back, her expression one of petrified amazement. Maddie could almost hear her thoughts as she took in the whole of Esther’s garish living space. Even on her second time around, Maddie found it jarring, but Esther (obviously inured to the poor taste with which she surrounded herself) merely shuffled forward, chattering about putting on a kettle for a fresh pot of tea and dancing around her moving, furry obstacle course.

  “I’ll skip the tea if you have anything stronger,” Granny called to her, earning a glare from Maddie. Though alcohol might make the experience more agreeable, she doubted Esther would have anything less revolting than dandelion wine to offer, and she didn’t want to run the risk of drinks with Esther turning her off booze forever.

  “Now that you mention it, it’s a bit late in the day for tea, and this is such a special occasion. Other than that nice Mr. Fitzwilliam, I so rarely get visitors. An aperitif would be a wonderful way to celebrate. I think I have some spirits my Leonard left.”

  Esther hauled out a rickety stepladder and positioned it haphazardly in front of the avocado green refrigerator. Before she could set foot on the bottom step, Maddie rushed to her side.

  “Let me get that for you,” she said, mounting the steps and praying those wouldn’t be her last words.

  Relieved of her daredevil bartending duties, Esther began arranging cupcakes on a doily-laden plate. Maddie prayed that Granny’s pie would earn a spot on the tray Esther was preparing, but after a second glance at the cupcakes, she renounced all hopes of an indigestion-free evening.

  To her surprise, the cabinet above Esther’s refrigerator held not only what she suspected was the ancient prototype for modern crockpots, but also an impressive selection of alcohol. As she rummaged through the bottles of vodka, gin, scotch, cooking sherry, whiskey and (to her disgusted amazement) Malort, Granny commenced her interrogation.

  “Goodness, Esther, you must have been here a long time.”

  She admired Granny’s tactful method of commenting on Esther’s impressive accumulation of clutter.

  “Forty years.”

  She looked up from her improvised mixology to see Esther beaming proudly.

  “You must like it.” Granny glanced around again, her expression clearly conveying her amazement that anyone could be happy in a space like Esther’s. “How are your neighbors?”

  “Wonderful. Everyone here is so nice.”

  Maddie wondered if Esther had forgotten that she shared the story of her nightmare neighbors, but she decided not to ask until Granny got wherever she was going with her line of questioning.

  “How lucky you are. I’ve always been hit or miss with my neighbors. The one to the right will be a blessing, but to my left it’s scoundrels and layabouts. I’d love to have your good fortune with neighbors.”

  As far as Maddie knew, Granny had had more trouble with hangnails than she ever had with any of her neighbors, but she wasn’t about to point that out.

  “Well, it’s fine now, but there was some trouble earlier.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Granny asked and crumbled her cupcake on her plate, creating the convincing appearance of having eaten it.

  “Oh, just little things. Noise and unfriendly behavior in the halls. I don’t think either one of those women next door even knew how to smile.”

  “Unpleasant to be sure, but considering what else is out there, I don’t know that I’d be happy they left.” Granny smiled and tasted the drink Maddie offered her, apparently unfazed by her granddaughter’s heavy-handedness with alcohol.

  “They didn’t leave. I mean, not like you think.”

  “What other way to leave is there, Esther?”

  “In body bags.” She sipped demurely from her cocktail, her eyes widening in concern as Maddie choked on her own beverage. “But my new neighbors are wonderful. They love Thelma and Louise, and they don’t mind that I have a key to their place.”

  “You have a key to their place?” Every time she tried to eliminate Esther as a suspect, she found more evidence to suggest she was some kind of well-intentioned, elderly serial killer.

  “Yes, dear.” Esther returned her focus to her drink, apparently unaware of the bomb she’d just dropped.

  Granny raised her eyebrows in a question, the universal signal for more information.

  Maddie, infinitely less patient than her grandmother, couldn’t wait for Esther to take the hint. “Why do you have their key?”

  “I’ve always had a key.”

  “But, why?”

  “The owners of that unit live in Florida. They wanted someone close by they could trust to have access, in case there was any trouble.”

  “So you had a key when your previous neighbors lived there.” Maddie gulped her drink, wishing she hadn’t bothered to mix anything with the booze.

  “Of course, though, they hated it. They asked Lucille—she’s one of the owners—to take my key back.”

  “Did you give it back?” Granny asked.

  “No. I promised Lucille I’d only use it if we found ourselves in a predicament, and then they died.”<
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  Esther smiled again and placed a second cupcake on Maddie’s plate. Meanwhile, Maddie wondered just what sort of predicament would inspire Esther to use her all-access pass to Terry and Lindsey’s home.

  “That is not how that meeting was supposed to go,” Maddie sighed as she and Granny made their way home in the waning light.

  “What do you mean? I thought we were trying to catch a killer.”

  “We are, but I was really hoping it wasn’t Esther.”

  “It isn’t her, child.”

  “Were you in a different conversation than I was? Because she basically admitted she had motive and means to kill both the victims. Every time I turn around, she looks more likely to be the murderer.”

  “Well, turn the other way because Esther is innocent.”

  “I hope you’re right, Granny.”

  “Mark my words, the only thing that woman has killed is my appetite.”

  “I need slightly more in the evidence department than just your word.”

  “And you’ll find it, but it won’t be by looking at Esther Snodgrass. I’m more likely to commit murder than she is.”

  Maddie wanted to believe in her grandmother’s homicide sixth sense—it would certainly make finding the killer a breeze. But she wasn’t convinced, and in truth she had as much to go on with Esther as with any other suspect. She wondered if she’d ever catch a break in this ridiculous, mind-boggling case, and considering how long she’d been working to get to a minimally less populated field of suspects than she’d started with, she figured she would be collecting Social Security before she ever found out who killed Terry and Lindsey.

  She should probably quit before she got herself in trouble. Aside from helping her friend, what was she getting from this investigation anyway? It wasn’t like she knew the victims and would find some peace of mind by discovering who killed them. No, the only reason she had invested any energy in this puzzling case at all was because of Leigh, and since the police still hadn’t arrested her, maybe she was already in the clear.